In Between
by fantasyessa
Summary: 'But if they were telling the truth, that meant He was back. A shiver of terror wrapped around Percy's body like a suffocating blanket. He couldn't make himself accept that Voldemort was back.' Percy contemplates leaving his family in OotP. Au, One-shot.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling and her publishers. Any offensive material will be removed.

This was written for a challenge in which Percy has Borderline Personality Disorder on Harry Potter FanFiction Challenges, the link to which is on my profile.

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><p>Percy Weasley was scared.<p>

His job, his boss, _The Prophet_…they were all telling him his friends were liars. His family was liars. Everything he thought he knew...was a _lie_.

His small room, barely big enough to fit his bed, was dark. He was pacing the length of it. He was tuning out the noises outside of his door, instead focusing on the soft padding of his shoes. His suitcase lay by the door, packed neatly and professionally.

He hated himself for considering leaving. His family was everything to him. He craved their acceptance and pride, reveled in his parents' obvious favor and protected his siblings with a vengeance.

But if they were telling the _truth,_ that meant _He_ was back. A shiver of terror wrapped around Percy's body like a suffocating blanket. He couldn't make himself accept that Voldemort was back.

Maybe, all along, his family had been liars. They had probably been feeding him untruth after untruth his whole life. Yes, yes…that was it! The Prophet and the Minister, they were the sensible ones. Not his poor, buffoon-like family.

Harry Potter had seemed nice, and Percy had liked him. But he must have corrupted them all without any noticing such a thing. He was surely crazy, a lunatic.

But…they supported Percy. They loved him.

No, they didn't. If they did they wouldn't be lying to his face, saying _He_ was back. They were bad. They'd always lied to him, he supposed.

He wanted to tell them that they were wrong, but he knew if he stood up for himself…he would be left. They'd think he was stupid or…or pompous. But they were the ones that were stupid! They were falling for Potter's tricks.

And because he was being wise, because he _knew_ that Harry had become insane, they were going to leave him all alone. Abandon him.

A desperation unlike anything he'd ever felt started in the pit of his stomach and traveled up through his body, finally taking root in his head and staying there. Panicking, he grabbed his suitcase and held it to his chest as he collapsed on his bed.

He had to leave them, first. He could spend all his time at the ministry and he wouldn't be alone, he'd be surrounded by people. They wouldn't have abandoned him, he would abandon _them_.

So angry, damn it he was _so angry_…

Harry was _such_ a…good man. He had always been a good man. He'd won the Triwizard Tournament, saved Ron countless times…

Percy erupted again. How many times had Harry led Ron into danger? He thought of how many times his little brother could have died…all because of _Harry._

Yes, Percy thought himself a much better man for the world to follow an example his. He was dependable, safe, sure of himself…or was he?

He was going to leave his family in just a few minutes, declare them all liars…was that a mark of a good man?

He straightened himself. Spotting untrustworthiness and standing up for his beliefs _was indeed_ the mark of a good man. It had to be.

_Damn it this was all Harry's fault! _An uncontrollable surge of rage coursed through his body. He needed to break something, crush it beneath his finger, rip, tear, _destroy…_ He saw that picture, the embarrassing one of he and his brothers and sister in Egypt that had made it into the _front page_ of the Prophet. He held it between shaking thumbs for a moment…and then he tore it in half.

The smiling, black and white people immediately began to scream and flee and Percy marveled at the power he had over his family, albeit they were only figures in a picture.

He paused, reflecting on how easily the old photo represented his feelings... There was good, there was bad, there was despair, there was hope, there was black, and there was white...but there was _nothing_ in between.

There was nothing left of him. He felt empty.

Later, as he moved into his just as empty apartment, an unabridged happiness fluttered around in his soul, and he suspected he was right.

He had always been right, he was the best.

He'd be Minister one day, and then his family would be sorry they'd ever wanted to leave him…


End file.
